


Year of the Bull

by Selene_Sokal



Category: RWBY
Genre: Cow Girls, F/F, F/M, Lactation, Multi, Transformation, bimbofication
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:54:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29385882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selene_Sokal/pseuds/Selene_Sokal
Summary: To celebrate our new zodiac year, a fic about Jaune as a less-than-impressive minotaur... but not in all respects. He lacks the powerful build or strong horns accustomed with his people, but he's blessed by a minotaur god to be all bull in one particular way. A way that the tribe of bandits who kidnapped him are about to become intimately acquainted with—as well as how powerful the blessing of a god of fertility can be.
Relationships: Jaune Arc/Everyone, Jaune Arc/Raven Branwen, Jaune Arc/Yang Xiao Long/Vernal, Vernal/Yang Xiao Long
Comments: 10
Kudos: 99





	Year of the Bull

“In here, you little runt.”

Jaune was forcibly thrown into the tent, stumbling as he tried not to trip from his sudden momentum, until he  _ crashed  _ into a sack of grain that sent him tumbling to the ground. Not a great start to his imprisonment at the hands of these bandits, to say the least.

He looked up from the ground, seeing the looks of contempt on the two bandits’ faces. The first, a blonde girl with a big head of hair and a powerful build, turned to the other. “Hard to believe  _ this  _ is a minotaur.”

Trying not to cringe, Jaune knew he was failing at making any sort of good first impression. He… he knew he wasn’t exactly the  _ look  _ of the fearsome monster his race was known for. His horns were… unimpressive, and more so, his body wasn’t a mass of rippling muscles built for swinging a massive axe like it was nothing. He was, in a word-

“More like a  _ mini _ taur,” the brown haired girl taunted, looking over his slim and underwhelming physique, “if it wasn’t for the horns and the ears, I’d say we just snagged ourselves a particularly pitiful human.”

“Don’t know what my mother sees in you,” the blonde sneers, “but if she thinks you can fetch a good price at the slave markets, well, I’m looking forward to that payday.”

With a final mocking laugh, they departed. 

Jaune noticed that he was wholly unbound or restricted in any meaningful way, just a closed tent flap. They… didn't take him seriously as a threat, and who could blame them? Jaune didn’t  _ look _ like a threat. He could wander out all he wanted, they’d just easily catch him as he bumbled through the woods. So… he had to participate in his own entrapment, sitting miserably on a sack of stolen grain, trying not to think about how miserable he was… or how much  _ skin  _ his captors were showing.

Seriously! Wasn’t armor a  _ thing  _ in the human world! He’d been a hermit for a while, but he hadn’t expected things to be like  _ this.  _ Those girls… how long had it been since Jaune had  _ seen  _ a woman, and now he was the captive of—of all things—an all-female tribe of bandits! The brown haired girl had a cute, tomboyish charm in contrast with her blonde companion, her impressive bust on  _ full  _ display, with plenty of cleavage that Jaune could just  _ imagine  _ wrapping around his dick.

Yes, he was in mortal danger, but Jaune just couldn’t  _ help  _ it. He was  _ horny,  _ and horniness was something more than just a small issue when it came to Jaune.

When he was twelve and submitted to his Rites, he shamans of his tribe told him that he was a Chosen of their gods, one blessed with the Mark of their divine passing. But it wasn’t Tauros, the War Bull, who might have given him tremendous strength and manly physique, or the great horns of a Chosen of Minos. Respectable gods, gods who would make him a great leader or hero of their people. No, Jaune had been blessed by Tyr, the Breeding Bull, his sign  _ clearly  _ present on Jaune’s form once he hit puberty. Right now, he was  _ painfully  _ aware of that “sign,” groaning as he tried to shift his pants to make himself comfortable, but after those girls  _ teased  _ him, he just couldn’t help it!

He had to relieve some of this pressure! Loosing his rough, handmade pants, his cock promptly  _ flopped  _ out, its massive and ungainly girth made worse as it grew to its full erection. The girls might have joked that he was a “minitaur” for his slender form and slight horns, but Jaune’s cock put any bull’s to shame. His hand didn’t even fit around it as he stroked it up and down, feeling his seed  _ churning  _ in his grapefruit-sized balls.

Bearing the Mark of a god was not the blessing the young Jaune might have thought it was when he was a child. This  _ club  _ dangling between his legs was powerful magic—how the hell else could he sustain an erection without passing out from blood loss?—and the shamans had told him it would one day lead to the doom of a great tribe. Jaune had been horrified to hear it, and as puberty hit him like a truck, his dick getting bigger by the day, he realized that his relationship with his tribe was changing. Most notably, with the cows.

It was like they could just  _ smell  _ his virility and began to flock to him. More, it had an  _ effect  _ on them, fierce warriors of the tribe becoming languid and docile as they offered to tend to his needs. Jaune could see where this was heading, and as much as he felt his teenaged desire  _ pull  _ at him, Jaune loved his tribe—he would not be the source of their doom.

So he fled. Lived as a hermit, far from any minotaurs and far from anyone else, resisting temptation as best he could when he was “blessed” by the god of fertility. And right now, Tyr’s “blessing” was primed to drive him  _ out of his mind _ if he didn’t do something to calm himself down, now.

Jerking himself off was a regular ritual for Jaune. Even in stressful situations, he knew he just had to imagine some of the cows of his tribe… Pyrrha, the peerless warrior who’d blossomed into radiant womanhood, Nora, whose udders were the envy of every cow in the tribe. Jaune pictured them, imagining what it would have been like if he’d never left, claiming them as a herd of his own, their docile and tamed gazes as they worshiped him, their bodies m-made available to him whenever he wanted it, s-seeing them  _ swell  _ as they g-grew thick with h-his  _ children- _

With a groan, he released, shooting thick ropes of cum onto a stack of barrels, coating them with a white layer of his seed. His volume was always impressive, but, with his seed being so magically potent, when it found nothing to fertilize, it simply dissipated into the air. The one and only thing that enabled Jaune to live a life even resembling cleanliness as he regularly expelled gallons of spunk.

But… but perhaps Jaune shouldn’t have been so relieve to watch his seed melt away like snow in springtime. And perhaps he didn’t quite understand the full nature of his powers. Nor that the barrels, full of ale, were now soaked in seed marked by the blessings of a god, and they were not unchanged by his wild fertility. Even as the white trace of his cum dissipated, the magic did not. And try as he might, prophecy would not be denied.

* * *

“Drink up, girls!”

Raven raised her tankard as a cheer went up. All around her, her warriors—the fiercest women Raven had found,hand-picked to join her war camp—indulged in the revels of a good raid. Finding those ruins had been a stroke of incredible luck, not just to find a lost place brimming with treasure, but to find it all conveniently in the hands of some treasure hunters, sparing her girls the need to risk any traps or curses. Just a quick fight to drive them off and then they could help themselves to all the loot. Quaffing her drink, she had to compliment their taste in ale, though perhaps, had they spent more time training than provisioning, they might have been able to  _ keep  _ it.

And there was the minotaur, as unimpressive a specimen as he was, a good additional find on their way out. His little hermitage was well concealed, but Raven was a master tracker. He didn’t have any fight in him, not with his twiglike physique, but Raven figured she could still make a good profit off of him. She knew a man in Haven who dealt in demihumans, and while this specimen wouldn’t make for much of a guardian or a laborer, his weakness might be good for someone trying to breed minotaurs… but that wasn’t  _ her _ concern, just how much money she might get for him. All Raven cared for was that she had ensured the prosperity of her tribe, and that was good enough reason to celebrate.

Taking her seat, she took the time to admire how the Branwen tribe had flourished under her leadership ever since she vanquished her brother and claimed the title of Chieftain. Many had thought her mad to banish all the men from the tribe, but, in purging her brother’s supporters, Raven had discovered it was just easier to go all the way. And it enabled her to create a bond of sisterhood among the remaining members, a sisterhood that embraced other outlaw women who had fled civilization and flocked to her tribe. They were strong, the  _ strongest,  _ and that was what made Raven content.

Her daughters sat at her sides, almost certainly plotting how to undermine the other at this feast. Yang was her biological daughter, given to her by a farmer who had met her standards to give her progeny, while Vernal was her adopted daughter, a crafty and ambitious warrior who would make a fine challenger to test Yang against. Raven had pitted them against each other for their entire lives, and it had made them both strong. When she passed, she knew whichever of them that claimed victory over the others would make a fine Chieftain of the Branwen Tribe, just as Raven had become after her contest against her brother.

Suddenly, the bonfire  _ roared,  _ a sudden surge of flames soaring high into the sky, sparks racing upwards. Gasps broke out all around the ring, eyes tracing the flames as they died back down. A powerful omen, Raven knew… but one of  _ victory.  _ She grinned, feeling confidence swell within her breast as she rose to interpret this sign.

“Sisters of the Forest!” she cried, “This is a sign of our coming glory!”

She paused for their cheers, drinking in the enthusiasm of the crowd. She was Queen here, supreme and unchallenged.

“I read the fire,” she said, knowing to put some drama into her proclamation, “And it t-tells us...”

Something… something was wrong. She felt suddenly… woozy, unsteady on her feet, her balance slightly off, her words stammering in a way that Raven  _ never  _ allowed. The confidence she felt swelling in her chest wasn’t… it wasn’t  _ confidence.  _ Her clothes suddenly felt… tight. Very tight.

But nobody seemed to notice her momentary hiccup. Because they… they suddenly seemed… off as well. Something… going wrong, clothes too tight? What was happening?

Raven struggled to force  _ order  _ and keep talking. “We will- we will-”

But she was interrupted with one of her warriors… suddenly tearing her top off! The wild action drew all eyes to her. But Raven could see, clear in the firelight, her swollen, enlarged breasts, bouncing in all defiance of gravity, with an undeniable substance beading on the tips of her nipples.

_ Milk. _

It was the spark that ignited the dry timbers of the summer forest and in no time at all, girls were following her lead, rapidly disrobing, not even caring for modesty as they tore the overstretched fabric that struggled to contain their modified mammaries. Raven felt the pressure in her own chest, her top  _ straining  _ to contain what was swelling beneath, but she was, for the first time in her entire life, at a total loss of what to do. She just watched in disbelief as her warriors, the fiercest women in all Remnant, seemed to get caught up in this wild  _ madness  _ as shirts were ripped and vests cast aside to release some of the pressure.

And she could see the white trails of milk running down their… their  _ udders,  _ the sight conjuring unspeakable feelings in Raven until she saw one of her warriors grab her nipple and  _ tweak _ it, a jet of sweet, white milk released from her tit as she moaned in erotic relief.

It was like a bomb had gone off. All of a sudden, the camp turned into an orgy of women, squeezing, pinching, and tugging at their nipples, spraying an apparently inexhaustible supply of milk without a thought in their heads for how bizarre their behavior was or even what they were spraying milk on. They soaked their food in white, sprayed it onto the dirt, even on each other, the camp becoming wet and slippery everywhere Raven looked.

She heard the moans of her daughters milking themselves beside her, Yang’s fat tits ballooned into comical proportions, Vernal’s not far behind. The only one to not give in to this wild display was Raven herself, but she could feel the  _ pressure  _ inside her, how  _ painful  _ it was to need to milk herself so badly… but Raven never bowed to pain.

No, it was  _ desire.  _ Hot, lusty desire rising within her, a sensation she’d never felt for any man or woman before, but seeing all these bare breasts, dripping with milk, made her more turned on than Raven had ever been before. She wanted… she wanted them. All of them. Even her daughters.  _ Especially  _ her daughters.

“The… the  _ Bull,”  _ Yang whimpered, “We need… the  _ Bull!” _

Raven’s eyes  _ rolled  _ as she heard it, her lust  _ exploding  _ at the thought of a powerful male  _ mating  _ with her…  _ breeding  _ her, making her boobies swell even  _ bigger  _ to feed her little calves and-

“You can’t have him first! I’m first!”

The cry brought Raven back to reality as she saw one of her warriors had grabbed another, preventing her from leaving the ring. A sense of fury bloomed hot within as Raven realized that  _ whore  _ was trying to steal  _ her  _ spot with the Bull! A fury shared by all around the fire… along with the realization that  _ every  _ bandit in the tribe was now a threat to Raven’s rightful place!

The fight was on in an instant, girls wrestling each other, forgetting any sense of discipline or even the bonds of sisterhood and friendship as every other woman was reduced to frenzied competition. Milk sloshed everywhere, soaking the tables, the benches, the dirt, as bandit girls wrestled in a mad frenzy all around her. They pinned each other to the ground, rolling and tumbling in the dust and milk, smearing their bodies in what was rapidly becoming a mud puddle.

Vernal  _ tackled  _ Yang, the two girls wrestling in the dirt as they tore each other’s clothes off, her daughters’ big, milk laden boobies leaking as they squeezed and pummeled each other. Vernal had Yang’s head between her thighs, grinding her pussy into her hated sister’s face until Yang exploited an unexpected weakness, using her tongue to probe Vernal’s weak spots. By making her cum, Raven noted how Yang had expertly reversed their position, and now she was able to put Vernal into an unfamiliar hold where she grabbed her moaning sister from behind as she squeezed and milked her tits to assert her dominance.

Raven watched it all, utterly stupified by the war being waged inside her mind. She couldn’t bring herself to do  _ anything, _ every action equally opposed by the division in her mind. She should… she should stop them? Take order and yell for them to cease at once? Or- or did she need to focus on first  _ milking  _ herself, letting her feel the  _ pleasure  _ of release as she pulled open her shirt and let her jugs hang-

No… No! She was the  _ Chief!  _ She was the strongest, she had the mightiest will, she would not succumb to this infectious curse! This wicked magic that had overcome all the weak-willed sluts of the tribe was no match for her. There was no trace of  _ weakness _ in Raven’s mind or body, and she would not allow herself to lose!

_ She would be the first to be bred! _

With a cry, Raven  _ seized  _ her daughters, pulling them apart by the hair and  _ yanked  _ both of them to her breasts. Smashing their faces against her nipples, they only struggled for a faint instant before succumbing to their rightful place, their lips sucking away as their mouths filled up with Mommy’s milk. Good girls, becoming more and more docile, their eyes closing as her sweet little heifers remembered that good cows didn’t fight.

Raven looked upon her tribe smugly, her daughters dutifully relieving the  _ pressure  _ in her chest as she filled their bellies with sweet milk and giving her perspective over the scene she beheld before her. This was… this was  _ right.  _ Her earlier fears were mistaken as she saw her warriors succumb to one another, lips latched on teats, sucking eagerly as all their unnecessary and unruly anger sank away into the milk. The strong were suckled by the weak, a hierarchy forming as those forced to drink from the tits of their betters became weak-willed, docile, and obedient cows… though, Raven realized with a hint of pride, she was the  _ only  _ one to be truly strong. All around her, every mouth was filled by a fat nipple, girls drinking deeply from each other.

Raven released Vernal and Yang into the orgy, her daughters quickly losing themselves in the tangle as the suckled and were suckled upon, her herd of sweet, obedient cows contentedly lolling about in the mud as Raven went to seek her  _ Bull,  _ to be the first of the tribe to receive his seed and bear him the calves a good cow owed her-

She stumbled, suddenly finding walking difficult as her massive tits overbalanced her center of gravity. Falling onto all fours, she crawled towards the tent containing her  _ Bull,  _ her hefty udders nearly scraping along the ground, a trail of milk leaking behind her. Raven giggled, imagining the silly, inferior cows behind her following the trail as they presented themselves to be bred.

She felt her horns coming in, little nubs poking out of her head, as well as a second set of ears. A strange feeling, but Raven could only pay attention to how  _ right  _ it felt. They were much better, anyways, she was looking the part she should as she prepared to offer herself, thinking of how to best look cute and fuckable as she pushing her face into the tent and saw-

She saw her  _ Bull! _

Delight leapt in Raven’s heart as she saw her  _ Bull,  _ her breeder, right there! Raven had found Him, in a tent for some reason instead of at the feast, tending to His silly cows. They wouldn’t have been so out of order if they had  _ Him  _ there, no siree! They’d have just lined up to be milked and bred, just like good cows did!

“Moo?” she asked, cutely.

“Wh- _ what?”  _ He asked, “Oh no… oh  _ noooooo...” _

Raven… Raven didn’t understand? Why wasn’t their Bull happy? Was it because they were bad cows who were fighting- oh no! That must have been it! They’d been such bad, naughty cows, fighting each other—they might have soured their milk!

She sadly  _ mooed _ in her shame, approaching their Bull so she could receive her punishment for being a bad cow. This was all her fault, letting the herd become so naughty and undisciplined… their flanks unbranded and their heads full of silly ideas about being bandits when they should be raising their Bull’s calves.

Nuzzling her face against her Bull’s chest, she tried to think of some way to show she was sorry for being so bad. “Moooo-mate?” she asked, trying to hide her eagerness, jiggling her udders to try and look enticing. He looked at her incredulously, as though He didn’t  _ want  _ to breed Raven, which was the worst thing she could think of! “I’mmoooo sorry for being,  _ mooo,  _ bad... Moooomake it up to you?”

She smiled, batting her eyelashes at him,  _ really  _ wanting Him to like her. It was hard being such a silly cow when it was so easy to be bad, but she just knew she’d be  _ much  _ better behaved once she was properly bred. He seemed to struggle a little, but Raven knew… knew that she could  _ smell  _ his thick and manly scent tickle her nose as  _ knowing  _ stopped being so much a thing as much as lusty moos as she licked her lips and  _ presented  _ herself to him, her ripe pussy  _ begging  _ to get some milk of its own.

“I- I can’t- oh, I’m sorry! I really can’t help myself!” he cried in a language Raven no longer really followed.

What was left of Raven’s mind was shorted out as her Bull  _ entered  _ her, His massive tree trunk of a dick met only the faintest resistance from her utterly soaked pussy as it mightily  _ split her open. _ Her tongue lolled from her mouth as she crumpled into the dirt, her fall cushioned by her plump pillows as she flopped to the dirt. She  _ drooled  _ as He railed her, her body finding its perfect place, facedown on the floor, her pussy stuffed, her Bull poised to  _ breed  _ her.

As He started thrusting Raven gasped and mooed, knowing a cow like her had only one purpose and her Bull was giving it to her. She needed… needed his milk! Needed him to stuff her even more, stuff her full of milk so she could get big and plump with His babies! She was His breeding-bitch, and He would give her bigger titties, leaking even more milk, to feed all His babies, making her big and round and pregnant and full!

“M-mooo! Moooooo!” she cried out in joy at her new station.

She was just a mooing cow, begging for her Bull to pump him full of His seed. Milk leaked from her udders, pooling beneath her as he ground her back and forth, smearing mud all over her slutty body. She was a dirty, muddy, milky mess and she  _ loved _ it. This was what she was  _ supposed  _ to be, an animal to be rutted and bred and milked. Everything was so much clearer now, so much better now, and all she had to do was get fucked by her stud!

Which was something she took to with  _ gusto.  _ She was a dumb, brainless beast driven by instincts, her hips mindlessly rocking back and forth as her jiggling body took the force of every mighty, manly thrust her Bull put into her slutty body. He was close, she could feel he was close, and her need overheated her as she aggressively pumped him as hard as she could for the only relief she could ever imagine! 

Until finally…

“MOOOOOOOO!” she screamed, feeling a  _ pulse  _ of warm, delicious, gooey  _ cum  _ flooding her pussy, her womb, her  _ mind, _ pouring out from her overstuffed body as her nerves exploded with fireworks. All her thoughts were drowned out in erotic pleasure and an endless chorus of “Babies, babies, babies, babies!” as his fertile seed  _ easily  _ found root within her.

* * *

Jaune had fulfilled his destiny.

He’d revealed the blessings of Tyr and, in doing so, brought a great tribe to ruin.

That it was a tribe he’d never even heard of before the day he ruined it, that had been unexpected. But… ruining a tribe of vicious bandits was a lot better than ruining his  _ own  _ people, so… maybe it was a win? But it was a win with a lot of… unforeseen costs.

For one, managing a herd of giggling bimbos was a full time job. Their minds had,  _ fortunately,  _ come back to… something more like normalcy after the orgy. They remembered words at least, but they were simple and easily distracted now. Girls given tasks without his supervision quickly discovered a pleasurable sensation and he’d soon find them grinding their pussies against the corner of a box or with their own nipple in their mouth. Or a small pile of girls licking, sucking, and fingering each other. With his supervision…

Well, he wasn’t made of  _ stone.  _ His herd knew that he was as horny as they were and feeling their sexy bodies and slippery pussies rub and grind against him generally ended in one outcome, and it  _ wasn’t  _ the task that needed to be taken care of!

Right now, the two girls who had first thrown him into the tent—and given him the erection that had doomed their tribe—were failing to help Jaune pitch a tent. Well, they  _ were  _ helping him with that in a literal sense, but “pressing their oversized jugs into each other” wasn’t helping him erect a… oh, to hell with it.

But anyways, at the moment, they were fighting, and Jaune knew he had to intervene on this to get them back on track.

“You don’t wanna suck my tits,” the brunette said, “Cause you, like, know my milk’s tastier than yours!”

“Nuh-uh!” the blonde said, “I’m not sucking your titties cause we’re, like, sisters, and that means we’re not s’posed to have sex!”

“You’re, like, not my sister!” the brunette replied, “Cause you’re, like, blonde and stuff!”

“Girls...” he sighed, flopping his cock out and silencing their argument. In an instant, their eyes were wide, he could practically see the  _ hearts  _ in their pupils, and their mouths hung open as they drooled at the sight of their personal idol. Tyr would never find more devoted worshippers, he’d give them that. But he’d found that  _ after  _ they’d had a few climaxes, these two would be docile enough to work together on a minor project.

Signaling that they may suck on his cock, Jaune sighed. This… wasn’t working. Yes, he was having a lot of sex, and feeling the sisters’ soft mouths on his dick—and seeing the two of them accidentally begin making out right at his tip—was an  _ incredible  _ experience, but… they needed shelters up. Food prepared. Soon, they’d need to  _ raise  _ kids.

Even if they weren’t showing yet, Jaune could tell, by virtue of his supernaturally gifted cock, that his herd was  _ definitely  _ pregnant. He could picture them, their bellies beginning to swell with children—with  _ his  _ children—and Jaune… Jaune knew he needed to take care of them. But he couldn’t raise a herd in the wilderness. Not in the comfort his cows deserved. Reaching down, he scratched both girls behind the ears and rubbed their horns, hearing them  _ moo  _ in soft pleasure as they greedily sucked his cock. They… they shouldn’t have to worry about these things. It fell to him to find a solution.

But… well, the  _ wilderness  _ couldn’t sustain a herd, but the Branwen Tribe had  _ money.  _ Stolen coins and loot that could be sold. Not enough to solve all their problems, but enough to buy food and lodgings for… a little while. Going to a city was risky, but… while there, if he found someone with serious money and  _ convinced  _ her, just as he’d convinced these two sweet cows, the blonde taking one of his balls in her mouth while the brunette rubbed her cheek against his shaft, inhaling his scent, well, it’d take care of their problems. He could take care of all of them.

His cows looked up to him, their eyes eager for reward as they playfully licked his cock. And Jaune made up his mind—he’d do whatever it took to protect his girls, to make sure his herd was cared for.

He just hoped that the nearest city wouldn’t mind all that much if… a few of their local girls ended up, well, “joining his herd” along the way.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Renarde for feedback on this work! The original idea was suggested by VoidGolem for my monstergirls series, but it took off into its own story.


End file.
